


Hiraeth

by WillowsRambles



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions
Genre: Chases, Gen, Hilbert has an implied crush on N, Hilbert is not and it feels bad, Hiun City | Castelia City (Pokemon), Light Angst, Nate is Champion, Post-Canon, Regret, Vigilantism, if you squint you can see it, post b2w2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23601979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowsRambles/pseuds/WillowsRambles
Summary: Hiraeth (Welsh pronunciation: [hɪraɨ̯θ, hiːrai̯θ]): homesickness or nostalgia, an earnest longing or desire, or a sense of regret.In which Hilbert chases down a petty purse thief and finds himself mistaken for someone he used to be.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Hiraeth

The bustling streets of Castelia City were as busy as ever. Hilbert was enjoying a moment's respite, allowing himself to be swept away by the crowds. It was a bit ironic, but on the cusp of the daily rush hour, that was when Hilbert found himself isolated the most. It was nice. Everyone kept to themselves, lost in their thoughts about their day or looking forward to a nice rest and a warm meal at home. Everyone was in their own individual headspace during rush hour. It was easy for him, therefore, to be in his, without someone snapping him to attention or demanding his time. He could wander to the harbor, or maybe hop into the sewers and explore some hidden areas of Castelia. There was always something new to find in such a large city. Perhaps that's what drew him towards it in the first place.

Nuvema, on the other hand, was small. Inconsequential, even. Easily missed on the Unovan map. Easily forgotten. Hilbert supposed he'd unintentionally ended up the same way. Everyone else had moved on. Cheren was a Gym Leader now, Bianca was Professor Juniper's assistant, Hilda was on her way to becoming a famous star... He was happy for them, of course. They were taking steps towards their dreams. Fulfilling them. He couldn't be prouder of his closest friends. But he, on the other hand... He had given his up. Vaguely, he wondered if they felt as hollow as he did shortly after he became Champion. If they would feel it later. At the very least, being forgotten meant that he could live freely, but Hilbert knew, deep down, he wasn't satisfied with it any more.

" **My purse!!** "

A woman's shriek was all it took for Hilbert to whip his head up. Without thinking, without breathing, his body reacted. One second. His feet pushed against the concrete. Four seconds. He had broken into a full sprint, fighting against the tide of people on their way home. Twelve seconds. He leapt over a trashcan, swung around a streetlamp, and nearly careened into a frazzled looking man.

But he dashed on, throwing a half-assed "sorry!" over his shoulder. The distance between him and the thug was shortening now. The man was tiring out, he could tell. Not much longer until he --

A car, careening down the road, horns blaring, blazed in front of Hilbert. By the time he recovered from being nearly being scared shitless ~~and being run over,~~ the man had rounded a corner and vanished. _Shit..._ Hilbert knew these streets, though. Narrow Street was several blocks down, but a common gathering place for plenty thugs. The alleys branching off of Narrow Street were full of trashcans and wire fences, a perfect hiding spot for someone with a stolen purse.

Hilbert glanced around, setting off into a jog before running again, weaving around flocks of people, food carts, piles of garbage bags and parked cars.

He didn't think he'd barrel straight into the thug when he turned a corner.

The man cursed, knocking him down and charging for an alley, despite an exclamation from the former Champion. Hilbert scrambled to his feet, racing after the thug. He was met with a wire fence topped with barbed wire and a frustrating view of the man disappearing around another corner. Glancing around, he spotted a dumpster, close enough to a fire escape for him to climb on and over the fence. The landing was rougher than he expected it to be, even with a roll, but he pushed himself up with a grunt and pressed onward.

There. The man had slowed, thinking he had lost Hilbert. He was wrong. Hilbert didn't stop running -- speeding up instead -- even as the thug turned around. The force of his tackle was enough to knock the bigger man clean off his feet with a cry.

"Hand over the purse," Hilbert gasped, eyes narrowed, sweat dripping off his face, "and we'll make--"

A solid punch was slugged against his jaw, knocking his hat off and sending him tumbling off the thug. He groaned, disoriented and struggling to sit up. A second man emerged from the shadows, helping the first up.

"You decided to mess with the wrong dudes, _punk."_ He spat, cracking his knuckles while the other dusted himself off.

Hilbert took his time answering, feeling his mouth tenderly. Blood. He was dazed, outnumbered, and surrounded. He cracked a smirk. This felt just like the old times. Memories of hopping fences and chasing down Plasma grunts in their corny attire and petty thieves flooded his brain. All at once, he was sixteen again, fending off taller, older, stronger men with nothing but a Dewott by his side. He stood, wiping his mouth once more and fixing the two thugs with a steely gaze. His grin never left his face.

 _"You_ decided to mess with the wrong punk, _dudes."_ As he spoke, he tapped a Poke Ball on his belt, and his Samurott popped out. Mura, large and heavy even for a Samurott, snorted, shaking out his mane and pointing his horn at the thieves. "What's it gonna be?" Hilbert asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Shit..." The second thug's eyes widened. "It's the Champion-- Y-yo, forget the purse, we're fucked." The two men scrambled back, turned tail, and fled, leaving the purse behind.

Hilbert leaned back heavily against the wall as they retreated, hands and legs shaking from the exhilaration of the entire chase. It had been exactly like the old times... Several moments passed before he let out a bitter chuckle. _Champion, huh...? As if._

It wasn't the first time someone had mistaken him for Nate.

He closed his eyes, feeling that familiar ache in his chest that pulled and pulled, the one that drove him to leave Nuvema, to journey, to face down N and save Unova, to reach the title of Champion.

The one that drove him to abandon his home in search of someone he'd hardly known, but one that left a yearning in him that pulled him just as strongly, if not stronger.

And now, years since he first left, he found himself forgotten, washed up, a single grain of sand pulled back into the ocean by the current of time. He was no longer a hero. Unova didn't need him anymore. They had a new hero, a new Champion, a new chapter. And yet, he still acted, still rescued Pokemon, still assisted those around him, his body moving before he could even think. Just like before, his potential limitless just as Clay had once said, long, long ago. The feeling now was different, though. Desperate. Was he trying to rekindle that sense of discovery and heroics? Why did he even bother?

It was already too late.

Hilbert sighed, pushing himself off the wall and picking up the purse. "Come on, Mura. Let's go turn this over to the police."

**Author's Note:**

> :')


End file.
